Give Me a Reason
by Charmina
Summary: Written PreHBP. “Don’t do anything rash,” Draco tried again. Without taking his eyes of the knife Potter whispered, “Give me a reason Draco. Just a single one.” Oneshot


Disclaimer – J.K Rowling, Warner Bros and a whole lot of other people own Harry Potter and company. I'm not one of them, sobs.

Author Notes – Written pre-HBP and not uploaded sooner simple because I don't always get along with my memory, grins sheepishly. Thank you goes to Sailor C, both because she beta read it and because she knocked on my head and pointed out that I hadn't put it up on the net.

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**Give Me a Reason**

_What can the damned really say to the damned? – Interview with the Vampire_

It was the feast of the century. Everyone who mattered, or was related to someone that mattered, was there, and those unlucky people not part of that category were either sitting at home sulking or waiting outside in hopes of seeing that one person everyone wanted to meet.

The Dark Lord had been defeated two days ago, and the world was finally free, all thanks to one teenage boy. And now here they were to celebrate him, to give him their thanks, to honour him with Order of Merlin, First class.

Draco had watched from the back of Hogwarts Great Hall, how they all praised Harry Potter, practiclly kissing his feets. It was sickening. Sure, he might have been the one who defeated the Dark Lord once and for all, but what about all the people helping him reach that far? All those clearing the way for him? No, they didn't earn any praise, just Saint Potter.

Not many had known about Draco's role as a spy; at the beginning it was only Dumbledore and Snape. But when Snape had been discovered as a Spy and had been killed by the Dark Lord himself, the rest of the Order had been filled in. Many had not been very happy to have him there, but their opinions didn't matter anyway. He was there to do a job.

And now the war was over and he was at this blasted party celebrating his old school enemy.

People were talking cheerfully around him, everyone discussing what to do now that the war was over and what great future was out there waiting for them. Potter was probably somewhere in that crowd telling everyone the details about his great victory and they would 'ooh' and 'ahh' in all the right places.

It was all suffacating him slowly; he couldn't handle all this cheerfulness. He had to get out. He made a fast retreat out the big doors, sure that no one would miss him. The halls were dark and empty, and as he walked, the sound from the Hall grew fainter and fainter. His mind cleared and he relaxed as he walked furthur and further into the castle, enjoying his solitude.

A thin streak of moonlight that was visible in the far end of one corridor caught his attention, and he found himself walking towards it. A door to an unused classrom stood slightly ajar and a light breeze came from it. Draco walked slowly and quietly towards the door, and for some reason, he could feel adrenalin pumping through his veins. Before the war had ended this was what he did; sneaked around, lurking around people, and even though he hated it at the time he knew that it was what he did best. He didn't even know if there really was a person in that room, but it didn't matter at the moment. He got to do his job again.

He glanced in through the narrow door opening, and when he didn't see anyone he slowly opeaned the door a little wider. When the opening was wide enough for him the get through, he sneaked in to the room and looked around. His heart immediately fell when he looked around the room and still couldn't see anyone in it.

"Sneaking around are we?"

If it hadn't been for all his training, Draco would have jumped in surprise. But instead he only lifted an eyebrow and looked in the direction of the voice.

On the floor of one of the corners sat none other than Harry Potter with his wandtip pointed straight at Draco.

"Hiding are we?" Draco replied.

Everything was still for a few seconds until Potter gave a weak smile and let his wand drop. The smile disappeared again only a second later as he turned his eyes towards the ceiling.

Draco was at a lose for what to do. His meetings with Potter didn't involve ignoring each other or smiles, no matter how weak they might be.

"Taking a break from all the worshiping?" he said to break the silence. "The fans getting too much for you?"

He could have almost sworn that he saw something dark pass over Potter's eyes at that comment, but it was gone again before he had the chance to investigate further.

There was silence again for a few minutes, and right about the time that Draco was trying to think up something else to make Potter rase to the bait, a soft whisper reached his ears.

"Do you ever miss it?"

Draco stared at the teenager sitting at the floor in the corner in confusion. "You need to be more specific then that, Potter."

A sigh. "I was good at what I did. I learned fast and was always trying to be even better. And as Hermione once said, I have a 'saving people thing'."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco burst out when Potter once again went silent. This conversation was getting more and more confusing.

"I miss it in some way, even though I would give my life not to have it back," Potter continued. "At least it gave me a purpose, something to do, something I was good at." He suddenly turned his eyes from the ceiling and locked them with Draco's, a desperate look in them. "Does it make me evil? Wishing that the war hadn't ended?"

Draco's heart was beating fast now as he stared in to those emerald eyes, burning with a fire fueled by a desperate fear. For the first time he really looked Potter over. There were dark circles under his eyes and tearstains down his cheeks. His hair, that had always been untamable, had grown longer and hung in to his eyes, and he showed no sign that it bothered him. His clothes were formal, dark green dress robes, but when he sat at the floor the robes clung to his body and you could see his thin frame. But as Draco's eyes passed over Potter's wrists and he saw the scars, and when he turned his eyes towards the right hand and saw a sharp knife being held so tight Potter's knuckles had gone white, he sucked in a deep breath and felt his heart skip a beat.

"Potter, what are you trying to pull?" he said, although his voice didn't come out as more then a whisper.

"What purpose does my life serve?" Potter asked with a desparate look, his eyes flashing with pain. "What do I possibly have to live for?"

"Put away the knife, Potter, before you hurt yourself," Draco said, although a voice in his head wondered why. Since when did he care if Potter ended his life or not?

Potter turned his eyes towards the knife and stared at it in confusion, as if he just realised he had it.

"Don't do anything rash," Draco tried again.

Without taking his eyes of the knife Potter whispered, "Give me a reason Draco. Just a single one."

Dracos brain was working on overdrive as he skimmed through all his knowledge of the teenager before him. "You family!" he cried out. "Aunt and uncle, right? They survived the war. Wouldn't they miss you?"

An almost hysterical laugh burst out of Potter, and it pained Draco to hear the desparation in it.

"They wished me dead from the moment I turned up on their doorstep, so why would they care now?" A tear ran down Potter's cheek as he stroked the knives handle with his thumb.

Draco's brain quickly went over this new information but he didn't have much time to wonder about it as he needed to help Potter right here and now. "You friends? What about them? Could you really leave them?"

"Do you know how many friends I have lost over the years?" Potter whispered as he turned towards Draco again. "I don't; I lost count." Another tear fell from his eyes. "All I know is that my best friends are dead and we promised each other to stick together forever. How can I keep that promise if I'm not with them?"

Tears threatened to fall from Draco's eyes too but he forced them away. Malfoy's didn't cry, and especially not in a situation like this when he needs to stay strong. What good would it do Potter?

"I'm sure they never wished for you to die because of them," he tried to reason.

"But niether did I wish them to die for me, and yet they did," Potter said with a sad smile.

There was silence for several minutes, and to Draco it felt like an eternity. "You can't let it end like this," he said at last. "Not after everything."

"Why not?" Potter asked. "What keeps me from it?

"You just can't! It's not right!" Draco cried.

Potter looked him over once and then looked straight in to his eyes. "What were you doing earlier?"

Draco stared back open-mouthed, confused by the sudden change of subject. "I was only walking around. I needed to get away from the crowds."

Potter was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "You tried to sneak up on me."

"No, no of course I didn't!" Draco said at once, not wanting Potter to take it the wrong way.

"You played the role of the spy for so many years, it comes natural for you now," Potter continued like he hadn't heard Draco's objection. "I asked you earlier but you didn't answer me. Do you miss it?"

Draco stared back at him, a battle taking place in his head. He saw the desparate look in Potter's eyes and he knew that his answers was important, yet he found it difficult to give. He swallowed hard, closed his eyes and then answered, "Yes."

When he opened his eyes again he found Potter looking him straight in the eyes and he meet the look straight on, showing all his emotions, all his fears and doubts, showing that Potter wasn't the only one who felt left out with no place to run.

Potter then turned his eyes towards the knife in his hand and once again caressed it with his thumb. Draco watched silently, waiting for what descion Potter would make.

Slowly Potter got up from the floor and walked over to an open window. He looked out over the grounds and then lifted up the knife. He took one last, long look at it before he threw it with all his might out the window.

A deep silence followed his action, as neither boy wanted to destoy this moment with unnessesary words.

After what felt like an eternity, Potter turned around and walked towards Draco and the door. "We should get back to the feast," he said simply, to which Draco nodded and they walked out the door and down the corridors together.

When they reached the Great Hall, they gave each other one last look before they went seperate ways. Potter was soon snatched by a group of people that wanted the chance to talk to their hero, and Draco watched from his place in the back of the hall. He saw the forced smile on Potter's face and the emptiness of his eyes, and he couldn't understand why no one had noticed it before.

And then Potter looked in his direction, and they locked eyes for a split second. There was an understanding between them now, something only they shared, something deep and secret. And for that split second Draco could breath properly in this sickly cheerful Hall, and the emptiness in Potter's eyes dissappeared, and they both knew that they weren't entirely alone.


End file.
